Lessons in Love

‘Promise.’ Jayne nodded.

‘How will I know if it is a crisis?’

Jayne laughed. ‘Trust me, you’ll know. But it’ll be fine. For the last few years I’ve spent most of my time sourcing new suppliers, looking at new products, talking to producers and manufacturers—and most of them don’t know me from Adam anyway, except by reputation, so you can do that. Use your initiative, pick things you like, things that you’d like to use or eat or wear, and don’t be afraid to say no, or to ask if they can change it. I just need life to tick over till I get back. Ray will help until you get into the swing of things. He can give you some idea of how many of anything we’re likely to shift, and what to pay and if they fit into the product range we’ve already got. All the business stuff. Just use your nose.’

Jane wasn’t convinced her nose was that hot. ‘And you’re going to let everyone know you’re away?’

Jayne paused. ‘Actually I’d prefer not to. I was hoping to just slip away without a lot of fuss. They won’t know—most of the time they barely see me as it is. We have an office locally. Ray runs the business on a day-to-day basis. Now, about your salary. I thought if initially we match the one at the library, plus say fifteen per cent and then review it after—’

Jane didn’t move. ‘You changed the subject.’

‘I did?’

Jane nodded. ‘You did.’

‘OK, well, that’s because I think that if everyone in the company thinks everything is running as normal then it will. If they know I’ve bunked off then they’ll panic, think there is something going on, wobble, and then things will go wrong, things that are working just fine as they are at the moment.’

‘I can see that, but what if they find out?’

‘I can’t see how they will, but if push comes to shove you can say I’m away on business if you want to. Oh, one other thing I was going to ask you. Most of the time I work from home so I wondered if would you consider moving in here while I’m away? You said you loved the house.’

‘Really? Wow, I hadn’t thought about it—I’m not sure, I’ve got the cats—’

‘They could come here too. I’m sure Augustus wouldn’t mind. And it would do me a colossal favour. Gary can look after you, which will keep him out of mischief, and it means I haven’t got to worry about the place. You can use the cars. I’ll make sure we insure them for you to drive. And it makes all kinds of other stuff straightforward. After all, J. Mills already lives here. I’ll have Ray and the bank sort out cards and contracts and signatures. You’ll need passwords to access the sites—have you got a pen?’

Jane stared at her. ‘Are you completely barking mad?’

‘Possibly, but you’ll need all those things and don’t worry, I’ll have all the right people investigate you, take up references, check your credit history. Besides which, you won’t be able to do anything critical without Ray’s consent and probably his signature. And you won’t have access to everything, just a housekeeping fund to keep the house running till I get back.’

Jane blanched. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘And when will that be?’

Jayne hesitated. ‘I don’t know, but don’t worry. Ray is a good guy, but in some ways what I really need—and don’t take this the wrong way—is a figurehead, a lucky penny. You’re OK about taking this on? If not, say so. I’ve waited this long, another few months won’t kill me…’ Her voice faded.

Jane considered for a few seconds; the library had already emailed her a list of vacancies. Mrs Findlay had sent a sugary little message saying that she was there if Jane needed to talk and she could completely understand her distress and pain. Perhaps she might like to come in and discuss her feelings with someone in Human Resources?

Jane glanced at Jayne’s computer screen, now back on the image of the tropical beach. What had she got to lose? Even if Jayne’s job lasted only a couple of months it would be way cosier thumbing through the job ads here, with a regular pay cheque, than sitting at home without one. And wasn’t this the kind of lifestyle she had always dreamed of? A fabulous house, wonderful furniture, great cars, a housekeeper—why on earth was she hesitating?

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine about it. Just a bit nervous.’

‘Well, don’t be. When did your mother say she was coming?’

‘As soon as she can pull herself out from under Simon, by the sounds of it.’

Jayne lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment. ‘Well, when you’ve got it sorted out, ask Gary to get the guest room ready. He adores company.’

Jane looked round the elegant office with its view out over the garden, the lake, the deer. ‘No. No, actually I think I’ll tell her I’m too busy at the moment. I’ve never been a lucky penny before. And, to be frank, I’m not sure I’m ready for Simon, my mother and the whole Tantric sex conversation.’

Jayne laughed. ‘Fair enough, but please, use the place as if it was your own. If you want her to come and stay, well, it’s up to you. Meanwhile, what I suggest you do is go through the sites while I go and get us some coffee; they’re all bookmarked. Get a feel for what the companies do and sell and handle. Ray can help you with anything you don’t understand, and he knows which fork to use, even under pressure.’

Jane looked at the screen. ‘If you’ve already got Ray why do you need me?’

Jayne paused thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. In theory you’re absolutely right, I could have stepped away from all this months ago—but I had this feeling that the time wasn’t right, that it wasn’t the moment but that I would know when to go. The other day when you turned up, it felt like some sort of sign. You having the same name—oh, I don’t know, I just had a feeling, and like I said, over the years I’ve learned to trust my instincts, at least where business is concerned, so I feel like now is just perfect.’

‘And while I’m busy trying not to ruin all this for you what are you going to be doing?’ asked Jane.

‘I want to make sense of what I missed first time around.’

‘And what was that?’

‘How would I know if I missed it?’ Jayne laughed. ‘OK, I suppose I was about your age; I’d done all kinds of dead-end jobs, saving furiously, saving up to travel. And then…’ She paused.

‘And then?’

‘Well, I was backpacking with a guy named Andy Turner. I suppose it was in the early eighties. Anyway, we were sitting on a beach in Kos, sharing a couple of bottles of beer. Andy had built a fire out of driftwood and there was the sound of waves washing against the shore, night sounds, but otherwise we could have been the only two people on the planet. It was getting cold and I remember leaning back against him to keep warm and he put his jacket around me and then his arms. And as we watched the sun set over the ocean, as the light faded into this soft peach and purple glow he said, “Jayne, I want to ask you something.”

‘I knew what he was going to say. He held me closer. I can still remember looking over my shoulder and seeing the reflection of the fire in his eyes, and then he asked me to marry him.’

Jayne sighed. ‘It has to have been the most romantic moment in my whole life, and then all of a sudden that wasn’t what it felt like at all. Suddenly I could see this path stretching out in front of me. Andy’s mum knew my mum—we’d grown up within a few miles of each other, been to the same school, had the same friends. And you know what? I panicked. I couldn’t breathe. I just thought that there had got to be more to life than this—more than getting married and living a mile away from my mum and dad, taking turns to go round for Sunday lunch, and having kids and—and the sun set in the ocean. And he said, “So what do you think?” And I said, “No.”’

‘Wow.’ Jane stared at her. ‘And is that what you want to go back to, to that moment?’

‘Good God, no,’ said Jayne, heading towards the door, the moment broken. ‘I’ll go and get the coffee.’

‘Oh,’ Jane said, ‘but it sounds so romantic. I thought you meant that you loved him and you wished you had married him and lived happily ever after, raising small Andy Turners a few miles from your mum and dad.’

Jayne shook her head wistfully. ‘No—no, but there is a part of me that wishes I had been strong enough to say, yes I love you but I’m not ready to settle down yet and I need to explore some more—maybe we both do and how about we do it together? But things were different back then, or at least they were where I came from. I grew up in a little village near Ely, where, if you weren’t engaged by the time you were sixteen they thought there was something wrong with you. My mum was convinced that I was on the shelf by the time I was twenty. And Andy wouldn’t have seen it as a positive thing at all. He would have thought I was rejecting him, fobbing him off.’

‘And were you?’

‘No, looking back I don’t think so. I just wanted more than what my mum and dad had settled for. It’s so much easier now but then it was still a struggle for someone like me: a working-class woman, trying to build a business. And the other thing was, if I’m honest, I wasn’t sure then that Andy was the one. I thought I’d be able to find just as much love somewhere else. And you know what?’ She paused, her smile faltering just a fraction. ‘I never did.’

‘Oh, Jayne.’

Jayne waved the words away. ‘Don’t. It was entirely my own fault. I had it, I knew it, and I threw it away.’

‘So what happened to Andy?’

‘We carried on travelling together till the end of the trip and then when we got back he went off to a job in Manchester. We vaguely agreed that we’d travel together again sometime but I think we both knew we wouldn’t. Last time I saw him was when I was waving him off at Euston. Ten minutes later I headed across London to Liverpool Street, went home and started my first business. Monday, the eighteenth of April 1983.’

‘As?’

‘Owner, only employee and chief cyclist of Sandwich City. Firms would ring their orders in before eleven thirty everyday and I’d pedal like hell round Cambridge to all kinds of offices and shops, with rolls and homemade soup in the winter, salads and stuff in the summer. With the profit I put a down payment on a house and converted it into flats for students.’ Jayne grinned. ‘My mum and dad thought I was totally mad but I just knew that it would work—and I wanted to be free and thought if I worked hard and got rich it would give me my freedom, give me choices, let me buy nice things.’

‘And did it?’